


Shatter like illusions

by GilgaNyan (NarryEm)



Series: Fantasy Alternate Universes/Multiverse [9]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Dubious Morality, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Succubi & Incubi, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3973825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/GilgaNyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking away his sorrows isn’t quite working for Koujaku, especially when the owner of the bar is his best friend. After one too many drinks and a nudge here and there, he takes the supposed summoning circle from some random stranger and goes on with the ritual. Little does he know, such magic actually exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shatter like illusions

 “You’re gonna end up in the hospital if you keep going this way. Again.”

Koujaku lifts his head from the counter and Mizuki looks like he is seconds away from forcibly dragging him back to his house. “Don’t care,” he mumbles and downs the rest of his drink.

Mizuki snatches the glass away and grasps Koujaku’s wrist. “That’s it. You’re going home now. I don’t care if you’re a grown-ass adult when you can’t even take care of yourself properly. When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t from a convenience store, huh?”

Koujaku frowns. He honestly cannot remember when he last used his kitchen to cook something.  Maybe that explains why his jeans have not been fitting him well lately. He flips off Mizuki before he climbs off the bar stool. Balancing is pretty rough after seven or eight shots and with his luck, he stumbles right into the arms of someone with fresh, woodsy scent.

“Sorry,” he hiccoughs. When he looks up, he is met with concerned, yet mischievous eyes.

“No problem. Need help getting home? I’m Theo, by the way.” the man asks. From the corner of his eyes, Koujaku can see Mizuki giving him two thumbs-up. Bastard.

“Koujaku, and thanks.”

Through the haze in his brain, Koujaku directs the man to his house. He lets out a low whistle when he sees Koujaku’s house. “Pretty fancy. What do you have to do for a living for a place like this?”

Koujaku shrugs. “Land was pretty cheap when I bought it.” He barely remembers to take of his shoes before he stumbles to the living room. “You can come in if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Theo replies.

Now that they are in a better-lit area, Koujaku appraises the man’s appearance. His hair is blond and his eyes are a sharp shade of green, so he has got to be a foreigner, who is suspiciously good at Japanese. He is wearing a button-down shirt that looks fucking expensive and same goes for his trousers and shoes. He is carrying a small satchel by his side.

“Your eyes are so full of sorrow,’ the man murmurs, breaking the train of Koujaku’s thought. “I think I can remedy that.”

“What?” Koujaku blurts.

The man rifles through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. Only, it’s not the traditional paper, it looks like parchment, something he’s only seen in books and films.

“This,” he holds up the thing, “is a summoning circle for a demon. All you need is to let a drop or two of your blood absorb into the centre of this diagram. The demon should be able to grant you deepest desires.”

Koujaku frowns. The diagram looks intricate, comprised of swirling patterns and letters that he can’t recognise. “Why’re you doing this for me? You don’t know me.”

The blond shrugs. “I like to help out people who can use my aid. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my hotel. I’ll see you around. Maybe.” Koujaku is left with no choice but to watch the nameless blond disappear through the door.

He stares at the diagram. It’s beautiful, he supposes. And there’s no harm in believing in that blond’s words, so.

It takes a while for him to get it all situated. First he has to get a paring knife from the kitchen and a first-aid kit next to him since he doesn’t want to get a nasty infection. The blond said that all he needed to do was spill a drop of blood, right? It stings when he makes a small cut on his thumb and watches the red droplet fall onto the parchment.

Nothing happens.

“Why did I even believe that guy?” he mumbles to himself. He takes out a plaster from the kit and wraps it around his thumb. Leaving the knife to let the blood dry sounds gross so he takes it to the kitchen to wash it off.

Just as he steps out of the kitchen, a bright green light fills his house and Koujaku’s hands fly up to shield his eyes. A minute or two passes before the light dissipates enough for Koujaku to lower his hands. When he does, he sees a figure stood in the centre of his living room where he put the diagram.

“Well, hello,” the thing says. It looks human, if Koujaku were to ignore the ram-like horns on either side of his head near the temples and a pair of giant bat-like wings sprouting from his back. Koujaku approaches the ‘person’ and discovers that he is much shorter than him.

“What are you?” Koujaku asks.

“An incubus, if you wanna get all technical. The bloke you saw earlier, Theo, is my broker, so to speak. And isn’t it polite to ask for my name rather than _what_ I am?”

“Incubus?” Koujaku echoes.

“Wow, you know nothing, Koujaku. I need to have a talk with my broker next time the next time we meet. Theo can be forgetful sometimes. I’m a demon that feeds on a human 's life force, specifically in the form of lust and you happen to be my next meal. Understand?”

Koujaku rakes his eyes up and down Noiz’s body. “Sorry, but you’re definitely not my type, whatever your name is.”

“First of all, it’s Noiz. And does your type happen to have long blue hair and brown eyes? Maybe on the short side?”

Right before Koujaku’s eyes, Noiz’s body begins to shimmer and shrink a little. In a few seconds, it’s Aoba who is standing where Noiz was just a short moment ago.

“What are you up to?” Koujaku questions the demon, still weary of what the demon is planning.

“Like I told you, I’m just trying to eat.”

It’s unbelievable, because the timid smile that the demon has got on its face is identical to the one that Aoba often has on his face when he is around Clear, holding hands as they walk down the street or duck into Black Needle on a weekend night. It’s so clear that they are in love and whilst Koujaku hates to admit it, he is envious of what they have.

Aoba—Noiz—grabs the back of Koujaku’s neck and drags his face forwards until their lips meet. They are soft and warm, just like Koujaku has always imagined them to be. The sounds that leave Aoba’s lips are sinful to say the least and Koujaku can’t help but tangle his fingers into Aoba’s hair gently and kiss him with everything he has felt towards the younger man.

Koujaku walks Aoba to the couch and he pushes at his slim shoulders until they tumble onto the sofa. Aoba’s legs fall open slightly, bracketing Koujaku’s hips with them. His hips buck up, rubbing their hardening cocks together, the friction of it delightful even through several layers of clothing.

“Koujaku,” Aoba gasps, cheeks aglow with red and eyes dark with arousal. “Hurry.”

It’s so damn difficult to remind himself that this isn’t really Aoba but Noiz’s petty illusion. But how can illusions be this life like and tangible? Noiz has got everything about Aoba right, down to the tiniest details.

Koujaku disrobes them both slowly, eyes feasting on the newly exposed flesh as he goes. The blush goes down to the top of Aoba’s chest, a fine sheen of sweet covering the expense of his torso. Koujaku leans down so that he can lap at Aoba’s nipple. The response he gets is just too much; Aoba’s entire body jerks up and Koujaku’s name spills from his mouth in a breathy tone that breaks Koujaku’s heart. He does it again and again until Aoba is shaking from the pleasure and begging for more.

Shifting his attention downwards, he sees that Aoba’s cock is flushed red and pressed hard against his lower belly. His entire face is flushed a reddish pink and Koujaku can’t resist the urge to bring his hand down to lightly grip Aoba’s erection.

“More,” Aoba moans when Koujaku thumbs at the slit, coaxing more precome to flow out of it.

And who is Koujaku to say no to that?”

 

 

-

 

 

Noiz is bored to be honest. The illusion magic is a piece of cake and the amount of love and affection Koujaku has for Aoba is enough to make him sick had he been born a mortal. Right now, though, he has no choice but to play along as Koujaku’s beloved ‘Aoba’.

He just doesn’t understand humans. They get so caught up in the littlest things in life and refuse to let go of the impossible. Take Koujaku for example. The idiot has been in love with Aoba for the better part of the previous decade and he still is, despite the fact that Aoba is happily in love with another man. Whatever. Sorrow and other emotional pain adds a nice flavour to lust anyway. Some demons would even say that such emotions fuel the undisclosed desires that dwell deep inside a human’s heart.

“Koujaku,” he gasps in Aoba’s voice. Ugh. Not his type at all. “Hurry. I want to feel you _everywhere_.” It’s a cheesy line and Noiz despises himself for having resorted to such cheap tactics. Koujaku responds to it rather well so it wasn’t for nowt, at least.

He wraps his legs around Koujaku’s waist, bringing their hips flush together. It’s trickier to undo Koujaku’s jeans and pull them down from this angle but he’s nothing if not wickedly talented at undressing people. Soon, he has Koujaku wrapped around his finger, one hand jacking him off slowly the way he prefers and two fingers tucked up inside is ass. Being an incubus comes with bonus abilities such as never needing lube or a lot of prep. It saves him time from truly enjoying his meals so he’s not complaining.

He’s had enough of Koujaku’s tender kisses and careful caresses. So he flips them over and straddles Koujaku’s lap, purposefully grinding his ass against Koujaku’s erection. Damn, this man must have no life, if this tiny bit of foreplay has got him so worked up already. Truly pathetic, this one.

Noiz reaches behind him to line Koujaku’s dick to his hole and slowly sinks down on it. Granted, his body is made for sex so he won’t hurt if he hurried but it’s more for Koujaku’s sake. The poor sod will probably come in several seconds if Noiz sat down on his dick too fast.

“Mm, so good,” he moans, swivelling his hips a bit.

“Are you okay? You gotta tell me if I’m hurting you.” Concern flashes in Koujaku’s eyes and Noiz has to fight back an urge to roll his eyes. Seriously. He needs to have a serious talk with Theo so that his next meal won’t be such a sap.

“I will be if you’ll hurry up and fuck me,” he answers slyly, leaning forwards so that he can graze his lips along Koujaku’s earlobe.

That seems to do the trick as Koujaku grips his hips and bucks up to him sharply, missing his prostate by millimetres. Koujaku unleashed is like playing with a beast, Noiz muses. There is raw power in Koujaku’s movements and he’s certain that his body would be bruised with just how firm Koujaku is holding him. He lets the bruises bloom on the illusion for the sake of human realism, though. With each thrust, Noiz is finding himself genuinely enjoying the whole thing. His moans are no longer fake nor exaggerated. It’s a shame that Koujaku will remember this as a wild sex dream come morn.

As his climax nears, his gums begin to ache, fangs itching to slide down. He waits until Koujaku is on the cusp of coming, so that the rapture can mask the sting of his fangs sinking into him. Noiz’s teeth don’t draw blood, of course. He can only extract the emotions from his prey as his body isn’t fully corporeal. Pleasure washes over him like tidal waves as he drinks in Koujaku’s unrefined feelings, his own orgasm hitting him like a fucking train. It prolongs both their orgasms as long as Noiz is feeding from Koujaku, which in Noiz’s book is a definite plus.

He detaches himself from Koujaku and watches as the red eyes become unfocused and glassy. Yup. Time to go.

“It’s been fun, Koujaku,” Noiz smirks. “Bye now.”

The portal back to hell reopens and the last thing Noiz sees before he returns is Koujaku blinking slowly as if trying to understand what just happened.

 

 

-

 

 

Koujaku wakes with the mother of all hangovers and a sticky feeling all over his body. He groans as he shields his eyes from the sunlight coming from his windows. He doesn’t remember how he got home last night to be honest; probably owes a big one to Mizuki, he’s sure. He pads over to his bathroom and takes a long bath, scrubbing away the fatigue and sweat from whatever he’s got up to last night.

He can remember something, hazy and bleary like a dream. It was a good one too, something he can never have in real life. In his dream, he held Aoba the way he has always yearned to, touched him the way he desired, and loved him the way he deserved to be loved.

Whatever. A dream is just a dream, isn’t it?

 


End file.
